


(tell me) what you want me to say

by TaiOliv



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Written before Season 2, second person narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4101289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaiOliv/pseuds/TaiOliv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>You tell yourself that it’s just because this is the first woman you’ve kissed after months with a man, and has nothing to do with this beautiful woman that charmed you the moment you sat next to her.</em><br/> </p><p>  <em>You don’t believe it for even a second</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He’s not half bad, as far as men go. He’s a decent enough person, polite, and a gentleman. He’s a serious man, and you’ve met in two different events already and he has yet to make an offensive joke, so that puts him ahead of, at least, three fourths of the men in the room. You don’t particularly enjoy his company, but that’s beside the point. He talks to you about the Marquis Hotel Group and you act impressed as if you doesn't have a fold with his last name on. He’s a very busy man, he tells you, not much time to stay home with his family (you find out that he’s not too old that he still likes to handle important matters himself). And that’s ultimately what makes you decide that he’s the investment you were looking for.

So, you suppose, it could be worse. In fact, you _know_ so. You’re a legendary faceless drug lord, for god’s sake. A rich man attracted to you doesn't even categorize as a problem, especially when that was your goal in the first place. But Emilio is still a man and you grow irritated with his presence as the weeks go by. His hands on you are tedious, at the best of times ( _nauseating, at the worst_ ) and you have to constantly remind yourself why you’re doing this.

Things start to get serious fast, he’s been married several times before and you know it won’t be much longer until he gets there with you. You hope it will get easier with time, the honey moon phase will end and he’ll no longer take you with him in every trip and you will be left alone to choose a base and get business started. _Just a few more months._ But the thought fills you with dread instead of comfort, and your frustration rises quickly.

 _No_ , you can do this, you just need to breathe.

It’s the fourth of July and you’re grateful for whatever important affair kept him from coming to Miami with you. He’s enchanted and you two spend twenty minutes talking on the phone, you’re meeting his kids the next night, and you keep thinking that  _you’re too close to stop now_. Not to mention that you don’t have the patience to start this all again. _You just need to breathe_.

Less than half an hour later, you’re wearing a tight dress in the first decent looking lesbian bar you can find. You’re surrounded by women, and you feel good and _free_ for the first time in weeks.

That’s when you see her for the first time.

 

 

She tries to be seductive and mysterious, but you can easily see through it and the pretense falls a few minutes in. She laughs too loud and talks about silly things and you don’t remember the last time you had such an easy and fun conversation. You realize that she’s also incredibly smart, so you talk about being a drug lord, and calls it “a promising law career”, because you actually want to impress this woman. Two hours go by and you’re grabbing a taxi together and heading back to your hotel.

There’s a big party going on inside and the pool area is closed, but you sneak in together, giggling like teenagers, and sit beside each other with your feet in the water. You don’t think you’ve ever been this fascinated with a person before and you don’t understand how you can feel so strongly drawn to someone you literally just met. This was absolutely not what you were expecting to happen tonight and when you tell her that she smiles. “You never know when the lightning is gonna strike", she tells you, and you think maybe she feels it all too.

You _finally_ kiss and it’s all kinds of incredible, you tell yourself that it’s just because this is the first time after months with a man, and has nothing to do with this beautiful woman that charmed you the moment you sat next to her.

You don’t believe it for even a second.

You stare at her for just a moment, contemplating how bad of an idea this is, before you two lean at the same time for another kiss, and another, and another. And really you should probably be worried how little it takes for you to decide that it’s worth it.

It’s not until almost 24 hours later that you find out exactly how screwed you are.

 

 

You two are so close again and you can’t take your eyes off her (you can still feel her month on your body from the night before) and she’s exasperated and asking the obvious questions, but the only thing you can think about is that you _just want to touch her again._ You take a breath and force meaningless words out. _“It was a mistake” “I do have feelings from him”_ and really you don’t understand how she could possibly believe because it all sounds as fake as the sweet innocent voice that you use for this character.

But again you did meet the night before, you have to remind yourself, and she doesn’t know, can’t ever know, who you are and all that you’ve done, what you current _are_ doing to her father.

The anger that you feel when she talks about her girlfriend is completely irrational and unfair, and you know it. You still think of seven different ways you could have _Alison_ taken care of _(no one would ever even know)_ , before you get a grip of yourself.

You look at each other and you feel overwhelmed by the awareness of this _connection_ that you can’t possibly explain. It takes every part of you to not kiss her.

 

 

Everything is going according to plan. Your wedding happens not too long after, it’s quick and discreet and you’re grateful for small mercies. Luisa brings her girlfriend and you go out of your way to not look at them. Emilio can’t stop smiling and quickly gets drunk with some business friends. You hear her laugh and you think of the most reasonable excuse that will get you out of there.

Everything is going according to plan.

You feel dizzy every time you come near a pool.

 

 

(Luisa announces her engagement the very next day you’re back from your honeymoon and you think she might be doing this just to spite you. As if you were having the time of your life there, _as if she spends as much time thinking about you as you thinking about her_.

It works.)

 

 

Your business takes off fast, but you miss the action of how it used to be. You tell yourself that’s why you feel so frustrated all the time.

 

 

You don’t go to her wedding. You make up some boarding meeting in a charity organization that you just cannot miss, and spends the next three day lock up at the apartment no one knows you have, feeling angry and miserable.

 

 

It’s been exactly one year when you two kiss again. You’re left alone together for, probably, the first time in months, and it takes a ridiculously small amount of time for you to get your hand on each other.

You’re tired and she’s tipsy, and it’s far from perfect, but you’ve spent months trying to downplay that encounter, just to realize now that your brain hadn’t even make justice for what you had together.

It’s passion and excitement and undeniable need. It's everything that has been missing in your life and you don’t want to ever let her go. So you don’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this started as a writing exercise and i'm not really sure where it's going. i'm not really satisfied with it, but i havent written anything in a really long time so i guess i have to start somewhere. also, english is not my first language so apologies for any really gross mistakes


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply regret having started this with second person narrative

After that day, you can’t go a week without each other. In the beginning it’s just sex. Passionate raw delicious sex. In a room in the hotel you’re staying, at her work, in both your cars, in the bathroom of a very respectful restaurant that one time. You show her your apartment one day and both of you get dangerously close to forgetting that you have lives to get back to.

You touch her and everything else disappears around you. Afterwards, Luisa always puts her clothes on quickly, without looking at you, turns around and says “This can never happen again”.

“Of course not”, you sigh and nod, avoiding her eye and feigning regret.

You impatiently wait three to five days to contact her. You’re naked in her bed twenty minutes later.

 

 

Sometimes, you hold her after and she doesn’t say a thing, sometimes you taste alcohol in her mouth and you don’t say a thing.

In those times you remember nothing good can ever come from this.

 

 

She’s at your door wearing a sundress that would be too light for any other place at this time of the year except Miami, and a small hesitant smile on her face. She shows you two to-go bags from your favorite restaurant. “I thought we could just, um, have lunch today” she shrugs “Or whatever, we can just, y’know, just go have sex and stuff, if you want”.

You can’t stop the smile that takes over your face. “I would like that”, she looks up and you think you can see hurt in her face, “To have lunch, I mean”.

“Yeah?” she’s smiling now too “Cool”.

She walks past you to the kitchen and you happily follow her.

 

 

“Do you love him?”

“ _Luisa_ ”, you sign. You’re lying in bed together and it’s been a _good day_. You don’t always get many of those and you just want to lay there with her and enjoy whatever time you still have.

“You’re married to him, Rose. It’s a fair question”.

“You’re married too”. You immediately regret saying anything because you really don’t want her to remember to feel guilty and go back to her wife. She shifts in your arms, but doesn’t move otherwise.

“Yeah”. She puts her arm around your midsection and her head in your chest. You can’t tell if the sigh she lets out it’s from heaviness or relief.

You fall asleep together.

 

 

Sometimes it’s like that first night and you talk, talk, talk, and nothing else exists outside the two of you. She tells you about med school and childhood memories with her brother and what little she remembers of her mother. Her father fills a heavy silence so you start to talk too. You tell her about a difficult childhood and being the first in your family to go to college, about your time abroad and your awkward teenage years. You tell her as much as you can without lying, and when that’s done you prefer to not say anything else.

She’s the one real thing you have and you’ll protect her from all the poison in your life for as long as you possibly can.

(It’s such a naïve thought that you almost laugh. Your actions will catch up with you someday and she’ll pay the price too)

 

 

“Why did you go to law school?”

“I wanted to have control. And power.”

“Did you get it?” her voice lacks the resentment and judgement you were expecting.

It takes you a few seconds to answer. “For a while”

 

 

“Sorry if I made you wait too long at the door”

“Like you could ever make me wait”, she smirks “sometimes you make me work for it, but I kinda liked”. She turns around again looking for her bra.

“Still, you shouldn’t have to stay outside. What if you had been seen?”

“By whom? You own the entire floor”

You are a strong independent former drug lady. You’re going to do this and you’re not going to look away from her while doing it. “Luisa, I’m trying to do something here”

She turns around and sits on the bed again, suspicion in her eyes, but a playful smile on her lips. “Okay? What is it?”

“Here”, you show her your open hand, but she makes no movement to take the object in it. “It’s a key to the apartment.”

“This apartment? Your secret apartment that no one knows you have?”

“Well, _you_ know I have it. And we are here together constantly. So you might as well have a key too”, you explain, looking away quickly but you force yourself to look back up, “So you can let yourself in if you get here before me. Or if you maybe need somewhere to go, or need to come here when I’m away”.

She stares at you for a few seconds, then smiles and kisses you slowly.

 

 

You fight sometimes too. Luisa gets angry and you get frustrated and there are tears and yelling and angry sex against the wall. You’re are both proud and stubborn women and weeks go by before one of you gives in. And then it’s slow and gentle and there are screaming and tears too but for a whole different reason.

 

 

She tells you she loves you by accident one day when she’s coming and it pushes you to the edge with her. Later, you’re lying in the dark, side by side, without touching, but you still can tell how tense she is. You hug her and wait until you feel her body relax to kiss her collarbone and whisper “I love you too”.

 

 

The call comes in the middle of the night. You’re still half asleep, but you can tell she’s absolutely wasted. “I fucked up”, she sobs and you’re wide-awake instantly. You ask where she is and are already half dressed when she answers. “Your place”.

You tell Emilio hurriedly what you can only hope is a believable enough emergence and get to your apartment in record time. She’s spread in the couch, crying, hugging a nearly empty bottle of vodka that you know you don’t keep in here because of this exact reason.

You take the alcohol away and lie down next to her. She places herself across your chest and tries, for the next hour or so, to explain what happened in between sobs. You hold her tight. “What can I do?”

“Take me away from here”

You’re in a plane together forty minutes later.

 

 

“We can’t stay here, right? We’re gonna have to go back” she staring at the blue sky. ‘Here’ is a cabin in a private beach in South America where the two of you have been for the last two days. It’s one of Sin Rostro’s safe houses and you are absolutely aware of what it means to bring her here.

You tilt your head to the side, deliberating. “Eventually”, you lean closely and gives her a quick kiss and a small smile, “But until then, it’s just the two of us. And nothing else”.

“Where does my father think you are?”

You sigh and lean back in your beach chair. “Europe. He’ll be helping Rafael with his new hotel for the next few weeks, so I told him I would give them some space”.

“And my wife?”

“Spa retreat. To help you get sober. Your father’s secretary called her. He was really worried about you and made you go immediately. Which is why you left without telling her”.

“Good to know”. You stay silent for a few minutes without looking at each other, until she takes your hand and kiss your knuckles. “I want to pretend too. That it’s just the two of us”. The smile she gives you is full of pain and you squeeze her hand. “At least until we get back”.

You kiss her and you think you see a little of that pain fade from her face. You two are there because she needs to get better and you’ll do whatever you can to help. You like to think that maybe she needs you just as much as you need her, and  if that's the case, how could you ever deny her.

You spend your days making sure she wants for nothing and your nights talking quietly on the phone with you employees. You barely get any sleep at all, but those are still some of the best weeks of your life.

 

 

She breaks up with you three days after you get back. She’s calm and controlled and it’s so different from the other times when the guilt or frustration would get the best of her, leaving her an emotional mess.

It’s calculated and final and there’s nothing about it that feels right.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is the one with actual original material so let me know what you think. also maybe it’s a little ooc? I don’t really know and it’s not like they gave us that many scenes for us get a good understanding of how they interact with each other in different situations so yeah


	3. Chapter 3

You _are not_ hurt by the break up. You knew from the start that this had no real future, that it would be over eventually and that’s okay, because it was just a distraction anyway and _it does not matter_. You try to ignore the fact that every time you think that it sounds more and more like all the things you used to tell yourself during those first two years you knew each other.

And after so long, it doesn’t have nearly the same effect anymore.

 

 

She calls, after moths, you saying it’s an emergency, and as expected you change your entire schedule to meet her. You stay close to the door, doing your best to act as if being there is nothing more than a nuisance, while simultaneously drinking up her presence as discretely as you can manage. She has the goddamn nerve to tell you that she needs a lawyer, as if that’s the reason you are here after _all this time_  of barely exchanging words, as if that could _ever_ be all that you are to her.

You almost walk out twice, but she practically says you are all that she has and before you realize you’re inches away from her, giving her advice in what might turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life. _Aside from you, of course_.

You mean to congratulate yourself when you get out before something can actually happen, but you’re too busy contemplating all that you could do if you got back in there.

Two weeks later, you walk into her office with two coffees in hand and the familiarity that comes with all the times you’ve been here through the years. It’s the second time you’ve been here just today, because she called you again earlier and apparently that’s all you can take before you kiss your self-control goodbye.

 

 

You’re in public together, her hand in your knee and her father has just left the table when she tells you to leave him. It’s the first time, in the five years since it all began, that she says the words. And for a moment you actually consider the possibility, all that your lives could be, somewhere far, far away from here.

It’s a very brief moment.

“It was a mistake, it’ll never happen again”. She smirks, you both remembering all the times those words were said before, and what always, sooner or later, comes after. It takes you four entire hours to call her.

For a minute, everything feels right again.

 

 

You never had stopped to actually think about what this would be like. Not consciously anyway. She lost her brother and her wife and it really feels like you are all she’s got left and that self-absorbed part of you likes it more than it should. In a practical sense though, it’s bad. It’s very, very bad.

It feels like the end of everything you’ve built in the last five years, and you can't allow that.

_(but, oh, how tempting it is)._

 

 

Then, of course, she vanishes without a word and it’s as if she left you again. You want to be angry, but instead, you can’t stop worrying about all that could’ve happen, can still happen. You spend days feeling anxious and distracted.

 

 

“She disappears when she drinks”. _Yes, you imbecile_ , but usually she doesn't go further than your apartment where you can check on her, and try to distract her with sex.

“Rafael, there was just a murder here.” He waves it off and you want to murdering  _him,_ but instead you start to make a list in your head of all the people who know your face and the probability they could’ve found out about your connection with Luisa.

It’s time to have a talk with that bellboy.

 

 

The police is getting closer than they imagine and suddenly you feel yourself losing your controlling grip on everything around you. You start to feel something similar to desperation quietly crawling inside you.

You worked so hard and fought for so long, and now everyone around you is screwing things up faster than you can fix them. You don’t like to think that there are thing beyond your powers, but it starts to seem increasingly likely that everything might be coming to an end sooner than you’ve planned.

Your self-preserving instincts kick in and you almost feel sympatric for those who stand in your way.

 

 

Luisa comes back two weeks later talking about clarifying vomit, evil money, and liberating honesty, and you pray for any power above that she doesn’t try to ruin everything. She is a liability you never want to take care of, but you can’t afford that kind of luxury. Not now.

As per usual, prayer are of no use to you.

 

 

“I have no choice, I have to commit her”, you hear him behind you and you feel like punching his face until your hand goes numb for no other reason than for falling for your manipulations so easily.

Of all the fucked up things you’ve done, this one undeniably takes the cake.

_WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?_

You didn’t know it was possible to hate yourself this much

 

 

Emilio is moving 5 million to an account and freaking Croatia and you have no idea why, he lies to your face and you realize that you can't even control him anymore. Is _everyone_ conspiring behind your back? You start to organize everything to turn the eyes to him and he comes back two days early trying to take you out of the country with him.

You sigh. This just won’t do. _Why can't people just do what they are suppose to?_

God, Luisa will never forgive you.

You can't quite believe you’re actually calling her, but you’ve never tried to pretend that you’re not a selfish person, so even though you know it’s unfair and stupid, you can’t bring yourself to not do this.

You will your voice to reflect everything you are not feeling, steady and calm. Still, by the end of it, you think it sounds a little similar to begging. She tells you no, _of course,_ because, really, how could you expect her to say anything else?

The encrypted text comes a few hours later.

Your business is over and after so many years of careful and calculated steps your face is no longer a mystery. Not to mention the money and credibility that you’re probably going to lose through the course of the next few months. A work of a lifetime, destroyed. Still, you feel like maybe not everything is lost.

 

 

She is sitting on the big couch, staring at you with dark squinted eyes. You’re on the chair, across from her, legs crossed, so nervous you don’t seem to be able not snap out of your cold and distant high criminal posture that you didn’t want her to ever see you in.

“Why am I here?”

“I told you on the phone. Luisa, you-”

“I don’t believe you.”

You think about asking her why she’s there then, but don’t want her to think too hard on that, so you settle for: “Why else would I want you here with me?”

She shrugs. “It’s always good to have a hostage, I guess. You never know when you might need a bargaining chip.”

“Lu”, you sigh.

“Or maybe you just wanted a souvenir. Maybe your twisted little mind couldn’t pass the opportunity of keeping a little pet to play your disgusting games with.”

“Luisa!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Rose. You see, I happen to have just found out that you’re a fucking drug lord.”

“Former drug lord.”

“Are you seriously trying to get technical with me, because I swear to God I’ll-”.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m sorry”.

“For what? Hm, Rose? If that’s even your name. What are you sorry for? For lying to me for the entire time we’ve known each other? For making me _love_ you? _For putting me in a metal institution_? For killing _my father_?”, she sobs.

You deliberate for a few seconds before getting up and sitting next to her. Her face is in her hands and she doesn’t seems to fully notice your presence. That is until you hesitantly put a hand on her back, she pulls away immediately.

“Don’t touch me!” she barks, shaking your hand off her. There are tears still running down her face, but she’s just breathing heavily and staring at the space in front of her.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper again, because you don’t know what else you can do.

“I hate you”, she hisses in low angry voice, turning her body to you. She grabs two fists of your blouse, you’re pretty sure she’s going to hit you, and you going to let her, because yeah.

“I know”, you nod. She stares at you for a few seconds, as if deciding what she’s gonna do next. A hiccup escapes and she starts to shake you.

“I. Hate. You.” she yells, “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

Soon she sobbing with her face in your lap, while you hold her. She passes out from exhaustion, not long after, still repeating it like a prayer.

 

 

“I really meant what I said before. Luisa, you’re the one thing that was real to me in the past five years. I-I know how it sounds now, but I tried to be as honest with you as I could. I never wanted to lie to you more than what it was absolutely necessary”.

She lets out a cold chuckle. “How very considerable of you”.

You press your lips together. “You’re not my prisoner, Lu. Or my hostage, by the way. You’re free to go, if that’s what you wish”, you force the words out, looking down.

“Oh, believe me, there is nothing that I want more than to stay as far away from you as possible”, she grunts, without so much as looking at you, but she sits down anyway.

You wait for her to start to eat before you do so, you’re think this might be the first solid food she eats in two days. It’s halfway through a tense meal when you decide to try again.

“Do you h-” is all you can get out before she drops the silverware loudly on the table.

“Stop”, she hisses, “Stop talking. Don’t say anything. I don’t want- I need to not hear your voice for a while, okay? So just… stay there. In silence. Can you”, she sighs, “can you do that?”

You look at her, clench your jaw and nod.

She nods back, “Okay”. She swallows hard, licks her lips mumbles a small “Thank you”.

You both go back to eating again, you don’t say anything else, but you can’t make yourself take your eyes of her, discreetly observing each movement she makes.

 

 

You’re in the balcony observing the deserted landscape in the early hours of the morning. It’s getting colder each passing day and you have missed this kind of weather, so you just stand there for a while, even after you hear Luisa getting up and making her way through the house.

You’ve understood by now that whatever process the two of you will obviously have to go through, has to be initiated by her. And before she decides on her own to do so any and every attempt that you make to try to push that start will only make matters worse. She’s not the kind of person you can manipulate into doing what you wish, and that’s not how you want to do things anyway.

She’s still here though and that’s more than you had dared to hope. So you suppose giving her space and time is not much to ask.

When you go back in, she sitting on her legs on the couch, watching a documentary on TV. She has a light coat on and is rubbing her arms slightly. You walk pass her and comes back a few minutes later with a hot chocolate in one hand and a thick blanket in the other. You hand her the cup when she looks up to you, then you cover her doing your best to not touch her a moment more than necessary. Then you stand awkwardly there for a second, not sure what to do next.

“You can sit down if you want”.

She moves away a little and you sit beside her with you back straight and your hands on your knees. You only let yourself relax fifteen minutes later when she throws part of the blanket over your lap to cover both of you.

 

 

You fall into a loose ropine. You make breakfast and lunch, she makes dinner. You eat together, usually quietly. You always wait for her to break the silence, so you can have brief talks about the weather, or the food, or what you’re going to watch later. Until she establishes something new, and starts a whole different cycle.

One day she comes into the kitchen and starts to help you with lunch without a word. She hands you a cup of tea another evening and sits next to the fireplace. One eventful night, she falls asleep in the couch during a movie, her head lowering on your shoulder.

 

 

You’re lying on the bed, feeling the weight of her body beside you. It’s the first time you’ve slept together since you got here. And, even though there are some marks around your body that could argue against it, it didn’t feel like all those other times you’d had just simple angry sex after a fight. After weeks of small touches and short conversations, this fells like something more.

You hear her exhale loudly and you bite your lower lip, trying to keep still.

“Tell me something”

You blink once and turn to look at her. She’s staring at the ceiling and her hands are together over her stomach.

“What?” you ask not sure exactly what she wants.

“Tell me something”, she says again, without looking in your direction, “Something about you, something true.”

You think for second. “My father used to call me ‘pequeña rosa’ when I was a kid, because of a poem he liked. I'm glad you met me with this name”.

She swallows quietly.

“I think I might be ready to listen now”, she says, “No more lies.”

You give her a small nod, lick your lips and start talking, assuming the same position as her. You tell her small things at first, about how you got the money to pay for the fancy college, the time you first met your most trusted associate, who Luisa had met when he brought her here, and how you almost screwed up you first international gig because you were so nervous you tripped at the worst possible moment.

You don’t tell everything though. You leave out your colleague’s body count and how that first job very nearly costed you your life, and exactly how you got away with it. You give her a PG versions of things and you know she’s aware of it, but you don’t want to push your luck and she’s not prepared for more.

She asks a few questions, but mostly just listen closely and, to you, it already feels like so, so much.

 

 

The first time she goes back home it’s your idea and you’re sure you’ll never see her again. She calls you six days after what you two had agreed and you laugh loudly, so reliefed you almost go to pick her up yourself.

 

 

In the end, it's definitely not perfect.

There are times when it’s hard, and angry, and full of resentment. You’re both stubborn, and proud and very opinionated, and neither have ever been afraid to show it. Often one of you snaps and say wrong hurtful things in the heat of the moment. But you were the head of an international drug business by the time you were twenty four. You think a quiet perfect little life would probably drive you insane anyway.

It’s different than before though. There are no lies or spouses or any sort of obligations between you now. And, weirdly enough, it gets more and more common that you two end up just talking things out after you’ve calm down.

And then there are those times that it’s just like the stolen moments in your apartment when nothing else matters and it’s hard to believe that anything exists other than the two of you. Times when that connection you felt the first night you met makes itself obvious and undeniable, and you quietly contemplate the possibility of a concept as foolish as soulmates. Times when it feels like pure bliss.

It’s far, far from perfect, but you're together and that’s close enough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so sorry it took me this long, I hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It was really hard to not include a description/analysis of every single scene they were together and also I wasn’t sure where exactly wanted this to go  
> so I hope you enjoyed and that I did a somewhat okay job, constructive criticism is always more than welcome

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this started as a writing exercise and i'm not really sure where it's going. i'm not really satisfied with it, but i havent written anything in a really long time so i guess i have to start somewhere. also, english is not my first language so apologies for any really gross mistakes


End file.
